


Pills

by rainbhrts94



Series: High Street RP Docs [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Hospitalization, Other, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:32:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbhrts94/pseuds/rainbhrts94
Summary: So I joined an RP Discord and came up with a bit of random background information and thought I'd drop it in here to share. Enjoy! Happy Reading!





	Pills

Yachi had always been a nervous person, anxious about the small things, continually fretting about mini-problems that were easily managed. She remembered the first time it happened; the entire event burned into her memory. She had theories about what caused the change, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t get that normal feeling back. It started in November. She had been feeling weird all day, her entire face tingled, specially her eyes and lips, and no matter how many times her friends told her she wasn’t warm, she would have bet money that she had a fever. Finally home alone, she was sitting on the couch, mindlessly watching anime when all of a sudden there was a thump in her chest, and her heart took off, racing as if she had just finished several laps around the court. 

Oh, oh, something was wrong. Yachi called her mom and told her what was going on, and she agreed to stop by when she got off work. After pacing the apartment for what felt like hours, she walked to the kitchen and drank glass after glass of water. By the time her mom made it, Yachi’s heart had calmed down, and there was no sign of anything wrong, so she went to sleep. 

The next day she had made it through her classes, and it was nearing lunch, but for whatever reason, Yachi couldn’t bring herself to eat. Nothing sounded appetizing, to tell you the truth, she was a little nauseous. With nothing but water in her system, she wandered to the flower shop to work her evening shift. 

“Yachi, honey, we’ve got some extra snacks in the back for Mariko’s retirement. Once you get yourself settled come on back!” her boss Ena called.

So she did. Not wanting to be rude she grabbed a cookie and forced a smile, trying to act natural when it happened again. Her ears felt like fire, and her heart rate picked up again, panic swirled in her chest and a haze filled her mind. What was going on? Why was this happening? She excused herself, saying she was going to the bathroom real quick. Once out of earshot she frantically dialed her mother’s number. 

“Mom, it’s happening again. My heart won't stop, my chest feels like it’s going to explode.” her breathing labored as she sat on the bench near the door to the bathroom. Though her mother was silent on the other end, she could hear the frown. “I think, do you think I should go to the hospital?”

“I didn’t want to freak you out but since you asked, I would.” she paused, and she could hear papers being shuffled and frantic typing in the absence of words. “Do you want me to meet you there?”

“Yes please.” Yachi’s voice quivered now she just needed to get out of here. 

Getting excused from work had been no problem at all, and Ena had even offered to drive her to the nearest ER, an offer she gladly took. She checked herself in and waited, and waited, and waited. Nearly an hour of waiting and her mom finally showed.

“They haven’t called you back yet?” a scowl working its way onto her features.

“No, they did take all my vitals already though. It seems I don’t have a fever, the only thing that’s up is my pulse and my blood pressure.” worst case scenario she was having a heart attack, and they were going to have to do surgery. Oh god! What if they had to do surgery? 

Without even asking, her mom sat next to her and rubbed her back, soothing her growing anxieties. “It’ll be okay.”

Finally, they called her name, and Yachi was lead back to a room and asked to change into a hospital gown. The tests they did on her ran the gamut; she got everything from a blood draw to a chest X-ray. After nearly four hours the doctor finally came back, a look of complete shock on her face. 

“Is this Hitoka, Yachi?” she asked pulling the curtain back.

“It is.” she straightened her back and waited for the news, expecting to be told she was dying and that this was the end. How did a twenty-something prepare for that?

“I have some good news and bad news. The good news is you’re not being admitted, and you’re not going to need surgery. It’s not a heart problem. The bad news is you do have pneumonia.”

Everyone in the room just blinked. Pneumonia? Weren’t you supposed to have a cough? Trouble breathing? A fever? The confusion had to be plain as day on her face because the doctor picked right back up with her explanation. Apparently, she had caught it early, so there was no cough, and she wasn’t contagious. After a week of antibiotics, she would be good as new.

Months came and went, and it was January. Yachi was scheduled to travel to Tokyo for a week-long seminar, and the entire class was flying from Osaka. She had flown plenty of times before, once even to the US for an exchange program and she was happy to be traveling, excited even, but all that energy morphed into something, and there she was, sitting with a group of her peers heart racing wildly, picking up speed as the plane rushed down the tarmac. She had chalked it up to being excited, maybe a little overwhelmed. Packing for the trip had been a nightmare after all. After three days of severe heartburn and a sort of normal flight back home, life went on.

I happened again a month later in February, except this time, she passed out. Roughly 70 people had come into the shop requesting bouquets or arrangements, and she was by herself up front. First, she broke out into a sweat, then her eyes went glassy, the next thing she knew, Yachi was on the ground in the break room covered in cold compresses and her manager hovering close by.

The third time it happened was in March. She had just boarded a flight bound for Okinawa where she would meet her friends for, what was supposed to be, the Spring Break of her life. Jittery was an excellent way to describe how she felt at take-off, but other than that the plane ride there had been a breeze. Yachi relaxed into the Okinawan sun and enjoyed the short reprieve before finals, graduation, and job hunting. She must have gotten too comfortable she thought. Why else would something like this be happening? She hadn’t been vigilant enough, hadn’t been looking for the signs. 

“Hey Yachi, you okay? You don’t look so good.” Her friend Hana fretted over her as they stood in line waiting to board the plane home. 

“I’m just a little queasy, I think I’m going to get a Sprite, I’ll be right back.” Yachi bolted towards the nearest Kiosk, quickly paying for the citrusy drink so she could make her way back to her friends. 

Sandwiched between the girls she felt the ever-present urge to leave; she needed to get up, walk away. Get. Off. This. Plane. The longer they sat, the worse the feeling grew. Yachi could feel the bile rising in her throat, the heat radiating off of her skin, the back of her t-shirt sticking to her now soaked back, her heart hammered in her chest and she could feel her pulse in her eyes.

“Yachi, hey. Yachi, what’s wrong? Breathe, you need to breathe.” Hana put a cold hand against her forehead, resting the unopened Spite against the back of her neck. “I want you to look at me and only at me okay?”

Yachi felt her head move, nodding to her friend.

“Good. Now I want you to count, quietly, backward from fifty and if you don’t feel normal by the time you hit zero count all the way back up.”

And she did. Three times. Her heart finally slowing down, breathing returning to something more even. It was like something in her brain had clicked back into place, her field of vision cleared and she felt, normal. 

“I had no idea you had panic attacks Yachi.” Hanna lamented. 

Panic attacks? Is that what those were? It was odd. She almost felt relieved. Finally being able to put a name to that feeling in her chest since she had gotten sick. She wasn’t normal, but she wasn’t dying either. Not even a week later and she had an appointment with a therapist. 

“I believe the symptoms leading up to the pneumonia were traumatic enough to cause yourself, an already anxious person, to feel panic anytime your body experiences the symptoms you had. For example the elevated heart rate.” Was what he had said and again, she was relieved. Relieved that it had been figured out, that she could at least try to be normal again. 

While it wasn’t always a cake-walk, and there still were moments of panic that just couldn’t be shut down, the medication worked. Worked like a charm. It even seemed to quiet her everyday nerves, for the first time in her life she felt sure and confident. She wasn’t normal, but that's okay because this feeling might be better.


End file.
